Monthly Archives: July 2012

As I stepped dripping from the drink, I chanced to spy a startled mink. I stood astride his customed path and set ablaze his short-haired wrath. He swaggered off to look me over. I caught him peering through the clover. … Continue reading →

Through the trees– the pink cliffs of Mount Percival, still hazy at seven, Phoebe’s goslings gone. Silence in all its splendor, shattered by the gulls.

Siberia sounds good and cold on a day when eggs I’m told bake on the sidewalk. Irkutsk beckons from afar on a day when cars and tar resemble ovens.